


you taste just right

by interstellarbeams



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: F/M, Seth POV, mentions of Richie Gecko, mentions of Seth/Sonya, mentions of Seth/Vanessa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:38:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8508229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Seth Gecko's love of old films might have affected his ideas about what makes a perfect woman. He's screwed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Nora ([GreenFish](http://archiveourourown.org/users/GreenFish)) for all her help (i had a lot of tense mistakes this time around) and to Brianna ([ladyannabethstark](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyannabethstark)) for letting me yell at her about SethKate and talk about our respective fic ideas.

_So take me to paradise_

_In your eyes_

_Green like American money_

_You taste just right_

_Sweet like Tennessee honey_

American Money - BøRNS

 

When Seth Gecko was a teenager, he would watch all his favorite films while sitting around the back room of his Uncle Eddie's shop. They were all old black and white movies, but Seth didn't care. These were his people, his idols, his compadres - at least, he liked to think so. These were men who got things done, always supported by their number one gal. Every artist had his muse, every businessman had his secretary, and your average joe had his housewife.

  
But these men didn't just sit around waiting for their girls to come around, the leading man always had to woo her with a little sweet talk and a charming smile. Usually there was some kind of love confession involved:

  
_"Here's looking at you, kid."_  
_"You make me want to be a better man."_  
_"What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down."_  
_“I was looking up… it was the nearest thing to heaven! You were there…”_

  
Then there was the kiss.

  
Of course, every normal teenage boy with his hormones raging wants to find a girl to kiss. But even they have that longing down deep inside, to find that one girl. They just won't ever admit it.

  
Now when Seth was 21 or so, he met the one, or so he thought. Her name was Vanessa.

  
Vanessa was young, beautiful and wild, and he was instantly attracted to her. She could throw back shots of tequila like it was water and then lick the salt off her wrist, all the while looking up at him like she knew every little thought that was in his head.

  
She probably did. At the very least, she knew the _one_ thing that was on his mind.

  
Later at his place, she kissed Seth like she was drowning and he was oxygen.

  
They fell down on his couch and the room swam a little, but Vanessa never lost her persistence in devouring him.

  
He wasn’t gonna lie and say he didn't like it -- He married her for God's sake! -- but after the shine wore off, he would think back on all those times when all they did was get drunk, fight and then make up; the monotony only broken up by the occasional heist, which of course, led to even more fighting, because his wife couldn't stand to be anywhere near his brother.

  
" _Richie’s a freak, Seth. You don't need him anymore now that you got me. Come on, baby, why can't you see it?"_

  
How had he let himself get into this situation?

  
After the divorce, Seth didn't have much time for women. To be fair, being in prison didn't help matters much, even though there were quite a few of his male inmates who wouldn’t have put up a fight if the opportunity had arisen to be with one Seth Gecko.

  
Not that he would have accepted any offers, anyway. There was a reason he spent so much of his free time in the yard lifting weights, doing _anything_ to avoid the four walls that were slowly closing in day by day.

  
Then there was Richie. Seth loved his brother, there was no denying that, and if anyone ever thought about trying to suggest otherwise, they would come out of that confrontation with less teeth than they came in with.

  
No one talked about Seth’s brother like that.

  
Thank god Richie had busted him out of that hell.

  
Only to put him right back _in_ hell just a few days later, when their attempt to rob that bank down in Abilene went sideways. They got the bonds, which had been the goal, but they also got a whole lot of trouble including, but not limited to; a Texas ranger with a vendetta right on their tails.

  
Working with Richie was so familiar to him, it was like breathing, but this time it was weird. There was now talk about snakes and demons; kids with tails, and a very strange description of _her_.

  
Now, Seth wasn’t sure what was going on, but Richie was talking crazy, like he did back when you were kids, and suddenly, Seth had the mutilated body of a bank teller on his hands.

  
What could he do? He dumped the body at the shitty Dew Drop Inn, or whatever the hell it was called, and in the process, kidnapped a sweet, unsuspecting girl and her family, so the two of them could hop the border to Mexico.

  
Mexico was not all it was cracked up to be.

  
There was no El Rey -- no sunshine and blue agave -- only the _Titty Twister_ , some kind of messed up strip club where the dancers didn’t just whet your appetite; they whet their own, for _blood_ \- preferably of the human variety.

  
Seth had seen some messed up shit in his short life, but this took the fucking cake!

  
He wanted out ASAP but his brother thought this was his time to shine, or some other bullshit, so instead they went and took their show on the road - or down into a labyrinth, or something. Who could even _come_ _up_ with this stuff? Some hopped up nutcase, that’s who.

  
The only plus side to the whole disaster was the girl -- Kate -- and yeah that’s what she was, a _girl_ , but damn it if he couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off her. And no, not in a creepy way like that walking, talking sexual-assault-waiting-to-happen, Tanner.

  
In all honesty, Seth felt like utter shit for getting her into their mess. It was the least he could do, to watch over her and make sure no harm came to her as the nightmare came to life.

  
Eight hours later, and he was covered in dirt and blood and who the hell knew what else - but there she was, standing there like some kind of beacon of hope. _When did he start believing in this crap?_

  
_“You want some company?”_

  
Damn it all if he didn’t say yes, but the girl looked like one strong wind might blow her over. Who else did she have to protect her, now that her father and brother were gone -- _dead_?

  
So he agreed, and they rode off into the sunset -- except, not really, because it was morning, but really, Seth didn’t give a shit.

  
And it was going pretty good for a while, until they made plans to rob that one mercado -- _“You ready, partner?”_ \-- and everything went to shit.

  
She had blood on her face, along with a look of horror. Her only friend was just shot right in front of her, but he couldn’t focus on that in that moment. It was all he could do to shield her with his body before they both went down.

  
Later, as they drove the piece of junk getaway car toward another unknown hellhole -- because apparently that was all that existed in Mexico -- the scene played over and over in his head, like one of those old movies he used to love.

  
Fast forward, rewind, freeze. Rewind, fast forward, freeze.

  
_Play._

  
What if he hadn’t been quick enough? What if she had gotten shot?

  
Bleeding to death on the dirty floor of a mercado in Middle of Nowhere, Mexico. She didn’t deserve that.

  
Seth didn’t deserve her. Kate deserved a better life than he can give her. He was just a strung out, poor excuse for a thief with a spotty history, whose only value was the reward amount scrawled across a Wanted poster.

  
So he left.

  
He went back to his crappy motel in the Middle of Nowhere, Mexico and he got high, hoping to blot out her face, and all the memory of her, but it’s no use: she was still there. That beautiful, wonderful innocent girl who Seth knew, he was going to bring down along with him.

  
It was unavoidable. He would bring her down, into the pit of hell where angels didn’t belong. But he didn’t care, because Seth was a thief, and that was what thieves did, they stole what didn’t belong to them, and they claimed it for their own.

  
Seth was a sinner and sinners didn’t get to have nice, shiny new things to call their own. They got the leftovers, the refuse, the things that life spat out one too many times.

  
Then he met Sonya, for the second time. _Did the first time even count if he didn’t remember it?_ Sonya was a tattoo artist but she didn’t just want to poke him with a needle, she had a little side business too, making illegal passports. He just needed her to make him one to go, and he might finally make it out of this hell on earth, if only he could think with his brain.

  
But then they have sex.

  
_Shit._

  
Kissing Sonya brought him to a high, just like when he kissed Vanessa, but it always left him wanting more. Just not more of her.

  
What he really wanted was that fine dark hair tickling his cheeks, and a Cupid’s bow that he could claim as his own. Smiling eyes that would promise him the world, if only he had the balls enough to take it.

  
Screw Kyle kissing her in the back of her daddy’s church, he could be her new religion. He would wipe his memory out like a moth disintegrating, when it flew into an open flame.

  
He didn’t want to take what hadn’t been given though. Not from her. He had already taken enough.

  
He had been a thief for most of his adult life and even as a child he had to steal to help he and Richie survive. But _this_ , this kiss, would have to be freely given.

  
If only he hadn’t left her on the side of the road.

  
Sonya betrayed him and he was actually not surprised in the slightest. In his line of work, trust was a fine line between life and death, so he shot her point blank. He knew he would regret it later, when he had time to cool off.

  
_You don’t need another black stain on your already black heart, Gecko. You worthless piece of shit._

  
Yes, she had betrayed him, but he also knew Kate would have vouched for her forgiveness. Kate had always been his conscience, from the moment he met her, and now she was gone _._

  
Kate’s _gone_ , definitely dead. Richie had seen the whole thing, two shots...blood, then tears and curses on Kate’s part, which he could barely bring himself to believe. His sweet Kate was fierce, but the thought of her cursing anyone -- even him -- was well beyond his scope of imagination.

  
Six months later and he was still reeling -- _Would anything ever feel right again?_ \-- he thought.

  
Still, he attempted to go about his normal everyday routine.

  
_Fucking Richie_ , he _had_ to meet up with the Lords of the freakin’ Snake Underworld. They had the fucking nerve to make him a bag man, a Collector. They expected him to lap it up like they were doing him some kind of favor. Screw that!

  
_“You were trying to get to heaven.”_

  
This job wasn’t his first choice, but he was dealing with it. Kate would cross his mind occasionally and he would feel a twinge of guilt and remorse, but he was trying to move past it. That was, until they needed the Snake Queen’s help.

  
Of course, _Kisa_ didn’t want to help them. She was still holding some sort of grudge, and he knew that she could hold onto one of those for centuries. _Shit._ He had to trick her, by calling her out in front of all her culebra compadres. _Hell_ , he was surprised she didn’t sic all her buddies on him and Richie as soon as she had caught sight of them. But she didn’t, she let him fight and before he knew it, he was down on the ground, bleeding.

  
But then something happened, if he had been a believer, he would have said it was miraculous -- he saw _Kate_.

  
_His_ Kate, the Kate that he had left in Mexico, but he knew she was dead, gone.

  
_How the hell had she made it back?_

  
She had died, two bullets through her stomach, her last breath taken at the blood well.

  
But he saw it: she was there, in front of them, and he wasn’t the only one who had seen her. Richie and Kisa had seen her as well.  
  
_Well, I’m not crazy._

  
How else could he explain it? This insane world that he had thrust himself into, unawares, was coming back to bite him in the ass, and it was using Kate to do it.

  
_Fuckin’ hell._

  
A month or so later, and Seth had _his_ Kate back. The queen bitch was gone and he was more content with his life than had ever been before. He and Richie were back to their old routine -- new bag, old tricks -- of robbing banks and _not_ taking hostages. Only this time they had a new partner: _you guessed it_ , Kate the “Preacher’s Daughter” Fuller.

  
She wasn’t really that bad. Seth thought he probably had something to do with her prowess at charming their victims. Kate would roll her eyes and tell him he was being, “as vain as a rooster in a coop full of biddies.”

  
He worries about her, though. Their jobs are dangerous and definitely aren't legal. She’s tough and he knew that he could trust her, but could he really trust _everyone else_? The answer, of course, was _no_.

  
Seth knew that his overprotectiveness annoyed Kate, but he just couldn’t help himself. _He had lost her once and he didn’t plan to let it happen again._

  
_“Seth!” Kate hissed, dropping her arms from where they had been folded under her breasts._

  
“Hmm,” Seth murmured. _Could he really help it if he was distracted?_ Her defensive stance was showing off her breasts, to their best advantage, in that tight black dress she had worn to their last heist.

  
“Did you hear what I said?” Kate demanded, glaring at him from across the room.

  
“Oh yeah,” Seth answered from his place propped up against his desk. "Something about stop trying to protect me or some shit." Seth replied, waving his hand in front of him, dismissively.

  
"Some shit? Some shit!" Kate argued. "Seth! I don't need you to protect me. I can protect myself, okay? I'm sick of all this alpha male shit!" she yelled, dropping her hands against her sides, emphatically.

"Alpha male? You think this is because I love being in charge?" Seth shook his head, chuckling to himself. "You're way off."

"I think I proved myself when I defeated Amaru. And I've been a part of this team for a few months. When have I given you cause to doubt me?" Kate questioned, tears forming in her eyes.

Seth abruptly stood from his slouched position and crossed the room to face Kate. Lifting his hands to her face he cupped her cheeks.

"Kate," Seth waited until her eyes were trained on his. "I will, and always have, trusted your judgement. What I don't trust is _other_ people's motives, when it comes to you. You are more precious to me than any score and I would give away all the money I have ever stolen if it would guarantee your safety."

  
Seth immediately noticed how close they were standing, closer than he had intended, and the light scent of her perfume surrounded him. Her beautiful green eyes were wide and innocent. He knew she wasn't quite as innocent as she made herself out to be, but that was one of the things that made her alluring.

  
_One part angel and one part devil._

  
_“I don't believe in paradise.”_

  
Well call me a fuckin’ liar, he thought, because he had found it in those eyes. He couldn’t take his eyes of her, and her lips were calling to him like a siren’s song. Apparently she had the same thought, because she hadn't been able to stop staring at his lips for the last few minutes, either.

  
_Fuck it._

  
He captured her lips with his own, and it felt better than heaven and paradise all rolled into one. Who needed fuckin’ _El Rey_ , when he could have died right there as a happy man.

  
Her lips were as soft as the down pillows he had bought for her -- after Amaru’s possession had left Kate with the inability to sleep. _The softest thing you could ever lay your damn head on._

  
And her taste -- _fuck_ \-- she didn’t taste like tequila and lime or whatever the hell tattoo artists taste like -- cigarette smoke? spearmint gum? -- he honestly couldn’t remember anymore. It didn’t matter.

  
_No._

  
Kate tasted pure. She tasted sweet. She tasted like cherry chapstick and vanilla ice cream, and he was addicted.

  
Kate sighed softly against his lips, and he knew that no other woman could compare to the one that he now held in his arms. There were no other lips that he wanted to kiss because -- _holy shit_ \-- he had found the one.  
  
_“I wish I didn't love you so much.”_

* * *

Movie quotes are from _Casablanca_ (1943), _It's A Wonderful Life_ (1946), _An Affair to Remember_ (1957), and _As Good As It Gets_ (1997) 


End file.
